


sunburn

by ShipperTrash140109



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Peter's Brother's Name is Alexander, Sibling Bonding, The Moonstone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23392606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShipperTrash140109/pseuds/ShipperTrash140109
Summary: They made their way home together, the two boys walking in silence aside from the scrape of their shoes against the cobbles. Everything around them was stained slightly orange by the dying sun, and Peter’s blond hair looked copper in this light, his cheeks a dark red, which Alexander could hardly stop himself from laughing at. “What are you going to tell mum about your sunburn?” Alexander asked, nudging Peter in the side with his elbow, to which the young boy groaned in annoyance.“I’m going to tell her you wiped the deck with my face.”“Bugger off”
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	sunburn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snowpiercer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowpiercer/gifts), [brookeluvsdogs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookeluvsdogs/gifts).



> add this to the long list of fics i've written for the loml. she dared me to write some wholesome dawson brothers content so i delivered, ruby you now owe me a dunkirk lighthouse gif set please and thank you

“I’m taking the boat out on Sunday.”

Peter paused where he held a bagful of fertiliser, turning to frown at Alexander, “the boat?” he repeated, brow furrowed to block out the sun that had decided to grace them with it’s presence the one day they were saddled with yard work.

“Yeah, the boat- y’know, the one you’ve been on every weekend since you turned three, that one ring any bells?” he asked, a teasing edge to his turn that made Peter huff in annoyance, turning his back to the blond to carefully spill the fertiliser into the garden. Alexander waited for a response for a few moments before he continued to push the mower, arms aching with the effort and his face pinching in a grimace at the unpleasantly screechy sound of old metal rubbing together.

Peter only responded once he’d emptied the bag, pausing to catch his breath before he started spreading it, “guess I’m coming too then, in that case,” he declared, and the proposal alone was enough to have Alexander pause in his pushing of the mower, frowning to himself, that was not part of the deal with his dad.

“Says who?”

“Me- if you don’t have me to keep it all together you’ll die at bloody sea” Peter explained, a cocky lilt to his voice that made Alexander grit his teeth and shove the mower that bit harder, where did this kid get off?

“I’ll tell mum you’re cursing again. You’re not coming, dad said I can take her out on my own, that means you’re not invited!” he pointed out rather forcefully, like hell Peter was going to ruin his first taste of solo boating. The point of a pleasure vessel such as the Moonstone was _pleasure_ \- and having Peter yapping in his ear the entire time would _not_ bring him any pleasure at all.

“I’ll tell mum you’re crawling around pubs every Friday instead of studying for your finals like she thinks you are” Peter threatened, and all Alexander could do was glare and kick a stone out of the way of the mower and into the back of Peter’s leg, though the rock was quickly pelted back at Alexander. He wasn’t _crawling_ pubs, he just hung out with his mates! He didn’t drink, didn’t have the money spare to buy one! Shows what Peter knows! “Idiot! He didn’t say you _had_ to, and I’m sure he’d be mad if I told him you were excluding your own brother!” Peter had once again stopped his gardening to turn and glare at Alexander. At the spritely young age of 14 Peter had well and truly entered the ‘pain in everyone’s backside’ stage of his development- and boy did he never let Alexander forget it.

The two boys share a long few moments of staring, Alexander scowling and Peter smirking, he knows he’s got him, knows there’s no valid reason Alexander can’t take him. When the older brother turns back to his task at hand Peter scoffs, proud of his ‘persuasive abilities’ and the matter isn’t brought up again until dinner.

“Alexander said he would take me out on the water tomorrow with him, dad!” Peter chirped as he sat down at the table. At that declaration, Mr Dawson looked up at Alexander, eyebrows raised slightly, a pleased smile on his face.

“Good man, Alexander- make sure you keep him in line, can’t be mucking around with her” he instructed, and the blond man nodded, a tight smile on his lips. When he looked at Peter on the other end of the table he was practically beaming, jackarse. He’d be keeping Peter in the bloody ocean if he could, dragging along behind the boat.

“I suppose I’ll have to make enough lunch for the two of you then” their mother hummed rather excitedly- in the natural spirit of motherhood she was positively beside herself at the thought of her two boys spending time together to ‘bond.’

The next morning Alexander is up early, clinging to the last dregs of hope that he can beat Peter to the dock and ‘accidentally’ set sail without him, but he knows it’s all over when he notices there’s only one serving of food left in their fridge. Peter had somehow dragged himself out of bed earlier than Alexander had.

His suspicions are confirmed once he reaches the docks and spots that ridiculous red sweater, Peter is sitting a top the Moonstone’s mooring and talking to someone who can only be George Mills. Alexander isn’t at all surprised, but he is hopeful that perhaps Peter will be too busy mucking around with his mate to hassle Alexander all day.

At least George Mills was a good kid- a nice kid even, he had to be to tolerate the Peter Dawson Alexander knew. If it were anybody else Alexander would tell them to go home, and to take his brother with them. “George brought his own lunch, Alex” Peter stated as Alexander approached him, and it took all of his strength and patience not to slap him across the head right then and there.

The three boys soon set sail, George and Peter sitting a top the bow, their hair ruffling against the wind as Alexander sailed them out of the harbour and onto the open water. It felt alien operating the boat without his father guiding him along, but he was 18 now- a man- and he no longer needed his father nudging him along and holding him steady as he wrangled the sails. He just needed to make sure Peter and George make it back to land alive and dry, despite how badly he wanted to shove Peter overboard for being a prat the whole weekend.

The water was pleasant, the sky not as clear as the day previous, but clear enough that other than typical ocean breeze there was no weather to be fought. As they sailed further into the channel, their boat garnered the attention of some dolphins, who clicked and chirped as they raced the boat, jumping up on either side of the bow much to the enjoyment of the boys. They’d seen dolphins only on chance occasions over the years, and Alexander knew his mother would be positively jumping for joy if she were here now to watch the playful creatures, knew she would tell all of her friends about them at every chance once they returned from their day’s sailing.

The dolphins remained with them for quite a few minutes before they disappeared into the water, rushing off to attend to other matters now they’d convinced themselves they’d outswam the boat. It was getting onto lunch time by now and it wasn’t long before Peter was bouncing to his feet and making his way below deck with George in tow to grab their lunch. Alexander knew by lunch their dad would usually turn the boat around, set them on course to return home, and so once Peter reappeared, he told the younger blond boy to help him tack the sail as he turned the helm, setting the boat in the right direction to send them home.

“See? Told you you’d need me, what would you have done then? We’d have never seen you again” Peter snarked, making his way back below deck to eat his food out of the wind. Alexander rolled his eyes and shook his head, Peter seemed to forget their father had been operating the ship solo for years, and therefore, Alexander likely could do so as well. Alexander supposed he’d let his younger brother keep his delusions of grandeur and prowess amongst the ship’s members, something to help him sleep at night, or whatever.

Peter’s self-absorbed boasting only grew worse when Alexander told he and George to keep the boat in the right direction whilst he ate his lunch. Even below deck he could hear Peter spouting on about his knowledge of the boat’s workings to his younger friend, who likely saw through every word but smiled and nodded just to keep the blond happy.

They spotted the harbour just as the sun had began to fall, and even from the other end of the ship Alexander could see the nasty sunburn Peter had managed to pick up during their little outing, he’d be lying if he didn’t say he found Peter’s pink skin rather amusing- as did George.

“You’re cooked, mate!” the brunet cackled as they sat on the deck in the shade of the cabintop, Peter passionately telling George to shut up, which only encouraged the teasing that Alexander thought he deserved if he was being honest. “You look like the lobster we ‘ad for tea last night” he laughed, elbowing Peter and receiving a harsh jab in the ribs in return. Dad said Alexander needed to bring him back alive, he never said anything about bringing him back without a bruised ego.

Peter spent the rest of the trip sulking in the cabin, George floating around above deck to keep himself occupied and jumping to attention every time Alexander could give him something to do with the boat, whether it be pulling in the sails or adjusting the rudder, that kid jumped for the chance. Alexander hesitantly told himself that Peter bringing George along may not have been the worst thing ever.

They’re a few minutes from the harbour when Peter reappears, head down to hide his sunburn and feet falling heavily against the ground underfoot in a childish stomp. “Can I bring us in?” Peter asks quietly, and Alexander stares at him a moment, sighing as he looks briefly to the approaching harbour, eventually he shrugs, stepping away from the helm so that Peter could get his hands on it, “if we crash it’s your fault for letting me,” Peter spits, obviously in a sour mood from the sunburn and George’s teasing. Alexander would’ve fought back but he really didn’t want to distract Peter when he was doing something as fiddly as he was.

He didn’t do too bad, considering their dad wasn’t with them to help Peter and Alexander was a terrible teacher. When they all hopped off the boat George was grinning ear to ear, “that was proper good, definitely worth skipping my homework for, cheers lads!” he beamed, and then he was turning around and jogging down the dock and off down the street, when Alexander turned to Peter with a confused raise to his brows the younger man shrugged.

“Has to be home before sundown.”

They made their way home together, the two boys walking in silence aside from the scrape of their shoes against the cobbles. Everything around them was stained slightly orange by the dying sun, and Peter’s blond hair looked copper in this light, his cheeks a dark red, which Alexander could hardly stop himself from laughing at. “What are you going to tell mum about your sunburn?” Alexander asked, nudging Peter in the side with his elbow, to which the young boy groaned in annoyance.

“I’m going to tell her you wiped the deck with my face.”

“Bugger off”

They both laughed at that, and for the first time since Peter got his burn, Alexander saw him smile, even if it was followed by a pained grimace not a second after when the action made his sore skin burn like the fire of a thousand suns beared down on him- though that only made Alexander laugh more.

When they entered the house, the first thing they heard was their mother’s voice from the kitchen, “you’re back, boys!” she called out, the words followed by a distance-muffled clatter of pots and pans, and once the sound died off she appeared in the hall, “I’ve just put the shepherd’s pie in, figured you deserved your favourite after a big day.”

Not even the sunburn could stop Peter from grinning at the mention of what was perhaps his favourite dinner, not even their mother practically sprinting down the hall to faun over her poor boys burnt little face.

**Author's Note:**

> SMASH THAT LIKE BUTTON AND LEAVE A COMMEEEEENT THANK YOUUUU


End file.
